


Don't Worry: We're In No Hurry

by doc_pepps



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9464849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doc_pepps/pseuds/doc_pepps
Summary: eyy, the title of this work comes from a song called Range Life by Pavement, which I always imagine Maccready singing for some reason.this took me ages to write but I had a lot of fun (^-^;)bI'm really glad to be finally releasing it, gah...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> eyy, the title of this work comes from a song called Range Life by Pavement, which I always imagine Maccready singing for some reason.  
> this took me ages to write but I had a lot of fun (^-^;)b  
>  ~~I'm really glad to be finally releasing it, gah...~~

He had a fat lip, and blood around his mouth. 

It was dark as we walked back through the rubble and I could just about see his swaggering outline as he wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve and spat blood. 

I lingered a few steps behind with my 10mm, keeping an ear out for trouble and gauging his mood. 

When we got back to my place I'd clean him up, assess the damage. 

For now he seemed to want to walk quietly, so I indulged him.

We passed under a streetlight and he turned to glance back at me.

His eyes were cold and agitated, and I could make out more bruising around his right eye and cheekbone, along with little cuts from the guy's metal rings. 

His whole aura was totally different to normal; it was almost intimidating.

I really wanted to say something to make him smile, to break the tension-- but not out here.

The night was quiet now, but there was no telling what was around the next corner. 

He stopped suddenly to take his hat off and run his fingers through his hair frustratedly, before sighing, turning to me and grabbing my hand.

He wouldn't look at me, but his hand squeezed mine tightly, and he was warm.

We walked briskly for a while, the gates of the city coming into view.

I hoped he couldn't read my mind as I replayed the scene in the bar back in my head.

***

We were in the Boston Bordello at my insistence.

I had helped them out with rival gangs before, so the drinks were cheap and the atmosphere was decent.

It was more anonymous than the Third Rail, and it wasn't as boring as Diamond City. 

The rose-tinted lighting reminded me of the hazy venues I used to frequent before the war, and the radio was always tuned to Red Rocket Radio Bop.

Maccready and I were sharing a cigarette, being down to our last one, and relaxing in a darkened corner booth.

"I don't believe you," Mac huffed, leaning back and exhaling the smoke over his shoulder.

I shrugged and let him stew for a few moments, trying not to laugh at his almost immediate reaction.

"You’ve gotta be bluffing,” he added, his voice quivering slightly, “right?”

I snickered as his face turned serious, all pretence and smugness forgotten.

_That got your attention, didn’t it?_

I smirked and placed my hand on his, as if I was about to entrust him with an ancient secret.

I suppose it was somewhat ancient at this point.

"You know me, Maccready.  
I’d like to think you know me better than anyone else in this world-- save for maybe Codsworth and Dogmeat.”

He rolled his eyes at this, but continued to listen reverently.

“Now answer me this,”

I looked into his wide blue eyes, revelling internally in the way he was hanging on my every syllable before continuing,

“Would I lie about Our Lord and Saviour, Grognak the Barbarian?”

I let go of his hand, sat back smugly and took another sip of my Nuka rum.

Maccready was shaking his head in disbelief, his eyes unfocused.

I deftly plucked the cigarette from Maccready's other hand and took a wistful drag.

“No fu--freaking way...”

“Yes way, Mac.  
I had a holotape copy of the long-lost Grognak Christmas special.”

I couldn’t help but smile under his incredulous gaze.

_God, this was fun._

“Ah, Grognak and the Twelve Beasts of Yuletide, what a classic,” I sighed as I leaned back into the booth and blew smoke into the air.

I never used to smoke before the war, but at times like these there was no use in trying to abstain from petty vices.

After a few minutes and Maccready had regained his ability to speak, he cleared his throat and promptly took back the cigarette I held out to him.

He took one last drag, then snubbed the remnants into the filthy ceramic ashtray by his elbow.

“We’re gonna talk about this later,” he muttered intensely, leaning forward on the table.

“I expect every detail, and possibly even a storyboard and script from you.”

I laughed happily and complied.

“Well, Christmas isn’t too far away now, Mac.  
Maybe if you’re good I’ll see what I can do,”

I chuckled.

He looked like he was about to protest, but when he saw my eyebrows shoot up he nodded.

“Fine. Deal,” he conceded, and eventually began to smile despite himself. 

_I only told you ‘cause I’m already drawing it for you, silly_ , I thought to myself.

***

The atmosphere was winding down for the night, and the bar had taken on a different tone as Charlie Feathers began his sorrowful ballad of deceit over the old radio.

I had laid my head down on my crossed arms at some point, and the sad song threatened to make me turn introspective.

I inhaled sharply and sat back up to see that Maccready’s light blue eyes were on me and I cleared my head and focused on him. 

He looked relaxed and tired in the semi darkness, and his bottom lip was between his teeth as he leaned his head on his hand. 

It was beyond cute, and the silence was making me anxious. 

I cleared my throat and shifted again in the booth. 

It was getting ridiculously late, and although I wasn't particularly tired I fancied the fresh air and the walk back home.

"Hmm... do you wanna get going soon?  
I think we've got all we're going to out of this place for the night without renting someone between us," I joked lightly.

Mac huffed at my comment, and as we stood I noticed his cheeks had turned slightly pink.

Damn him.

I rooted a handful of caps out of my jacket and handed them to him.

"I'm just gonna hit the restroom first, you go ahead and pay for the drinks."

"Yes, boss," he saluted with a smirk and a waggle of eyebrows, and I shook my head and chuckled as I headed off for the bathrooms.

I had a feeling he knew how much I liked being called that...

For a brothel/dive bar, the bathroom was quite pleasant, and as I finished washing my hands with the probably 200-year-old-soap, I heard a smash and a holler from the other room.

_Well shit,_ I thought to myself, sighing and unhooking my switch-blade from my belt loop.

***

Maccready sidled up to the bar, sighing quietly as he placed the caps down.

He wasn't quite drunk, but the drinking and good company had made him feel warm and relaxed, and after settling the score with the bartender he leaned back on the counter to wait for his partner.

He tapped his feet to Billy Lee Riley's "Flying Saucer Rock and Roll", and tried not to meet eyes with any of the anonymous drunkards skulking around.

He wished they were back at Home Plate already.

They could always keep drinking there-- bust out some Grognak comics and holotape games to keep the party going well into the morning.

Sleep didn’t always come easy to the two of them, having been through everything they had respectively.

_Still,_ Maccready figured, _I suppose all the downtime works to our advantage._

He smirked to himself as he thought about it.

_We’ll actually be alone for once too._

With a thud, an elbow landed on the bar next to him, and he looked around to see a large, scruffy man, staring intently at him.

He was built like a super mutant, looked like he hadn't washed in a year, and looked vaguely familiar, but Maccready wasn't sure he was the talkative sort.

After a few tense moments of looking around and waiting for the man to say something, Mac straightened up and cleared his throat.

"Uh, sorry, not interested, pal. Just waiting on my friend and then I'll be going."

He nodded towards the hallway where the restrooms were, and shrugged somewhat apologetically.

The man didn't respond, and he didn't blink or move a muscle.

He simply glared at the mercenary.

_What the hell..?_

Maccready could feel the confusion and annoyance becoming clear on his face now.

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Okay, uhh... Ahem."

Maccready looked over his shoulder to where his friend had gone off to, willing her to show up so they could leave this weird-ass place already.

_Come on, partner, I’m gonna get kidnapped and deflowered here,_ his inner voice whined.

He scratched the back of his neck as he mentally willed her to walk down the hallway.

_Five more seconds, then I'm clearing this up my way,_ he decided.

5

4

3

2

_Oh, fuck this already._

He rolled his eyes, let out a deep breath and turned back around to unleash his patented brand of venom upon this foolish man when all of a sudden an imposingly deep voice rumbled out a question.

"Do you remember me, little Gunner boy?"

The unexpected words caused Maccready’s mind to go blank, and he felt a prickle of alarm run up his spine as the words sunk in.

He took a few moments, steeled himself, and his voice was low and serious when he replied.

"I... I don't run with those bastards anymore."

There was an unnatural silence as the song ended and the rest of the bar patrons hushed, alerted to the possible altercation.

The two men were stood like feral cats sizing each other up; inexplicably still, hackles raised, waiting for the other to react first.

"You," the man shoved Maccready back a step with just one stubby finger, "better fucking apologise for raiding my weapon shipments, asshole."

Mac clenched his fists.

He was speechless for a moment, replaying in his mind all the despicable things he did as a Gunner.

He knew it was inexcusable, and he was tired of running from his mistakes.

He clenched his jaw, swallowed his pride and looked the huge man dead in the eyes.

"The Gunners are the lowest of the low,” he began, his sincerity colouring his expression.

“I’m ashamed of what I did back then.  
I'm really am sorry.”

He slowly offered his hand in peace.

The man looked surprised for a split second as he looked at Maccready’s outstretched hand and earnest expression.

And then his face steeled.

He grabbed Maccready by the collar and pinned him against the bar with a smash, knocking the wind out of the merc.

"Sorry ain't good enough, kid. Someone’s gotta pay up for what went down," he chuckled darkly.

Maccready gulped when he realised his gun was still propped up against the bar, just out of reach.

_Fuuuuck..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the Boston Bordello is part of the 'Tales from The Commonwealth' mod by kristakahashi.  
> I originally thought it was a vanilla location I missed during my first few playthroughs, it integrates that seamlessly.  
> I would definitely recommend that mod to fill out your game.
> 
> Red Rocket Radio Bop (and Galaxy News Radio in later chapters) is from 'Old World Radio' by brandoman.  
> I can't live without this mod; it's improved both my gaming experience and my real life exponentially.  
> Definitely check out this mod if you haven't already.
> 
> I briefly considered omitting all of the content that wasn't in the original game, but then I was like, "nah dude, no heckin' way."
> 
> anyway, this has been a public service announcement, carry on please (´∀`)


	2. Chapter 2

I came out of the hallway cautiously-- switch-blade first-- only to see that the bar was in total chaos already. 

_Well geez..._

A handful of patrons had retreated halfway up the stairs to watch the chaos unfold, and the rest were throwing drunken punches excitedly.

The atmosphere in the smoky room had become almost childlike; the rough-housing clumsy and stilted.

“This is just like some goddamn old-timey Western flick,” I muttered under my breath.

I huffed a laugh both in disbelief and admiration as I stepped around the pool table and dodged the clumsy blows of the other patrons.

I continued scanning the room for Mac, fully expecting to see him in the thick of things.

_As if this place wasn’t dingy enough before-- it’ll be destroyed after tonight._

Some dude picked up a folding sign only to swing it at his buddy and fall over in the process, while two figures rolled around on the floor.

It was anyone’s guess whether they were fighting or fucking.

The fact that I still hadn’t laid eyes on Maccready was starting to worry me, and when I saw his rifle propped up neatly against the bar I knew something was up.

I shoved past some jeering spectators to a darkened corner, and as I squinted through the hazy darkness I saw a massive figure hunched over, pounding relentlessly into the floor.

My teeth clenched, and I hoped for this guy’s fucking sake he wasn’t doing what I thought he was.

I saw red, and-- grabbing one of the wooden chairs behind me-- I brought it down onto the brute’s back as hard as I possibly could.

Considering how goddamn pissed I was, there was a considerable amount of force applied.

The chair smashed into pieces (like, three of ‘em), and when he turned to face me, sweat on his brow and blood on his hands I whacked him clean across the face with the chair leg I was still holding.

A primitive shout came up from behind me; the direct hit had blown the inebriated clientele's tiny minds.

“Fuck!” I gasped as Maccready groggily sat up, blood dripping from his nose, his bottom lip busted and his cheekbone already showing signs of bruising.

“I know, that’s what I said,” he quipped with a pained grunt as he grabbed my outstretched arm and pulled himself off the floor.

“Jesus Christ,” I said as I steadied him and looked over at the asshole who’d done this.

He was still conscious, the tough bastard, and he was obviously trying to blink away the little hummingbirds the blow to his head had given him.

“You’d better stay the fuck down there if you want to live, you son of a bitch” I warned him.

No way was what happened with Nate ever going to happen again. 

Not with Maccready.

The scumbag spat blood and muttered something to himself under his breath, but he stayed on the floor.

He knew if he made a move I would end him. 

_God, sometimes I wish I knew I had this much power in my old life._

My arms were on Mac’s duster, then gently tilting his face and surveying the damage while he growled and winced in discomfort.

The riot had dissipated at some point-- only a few weary faces looked on now, and no one had said a word since I’d given my ultimatum.

The atmosphere was like the aftermath of a harsh scolding from a teacher, with the hanging threat of eternal extra homework.

I was about to ask what the fuck had happened in the five or so minutes I had been gone when the idiot on the floor uttered something I didn’t quite catch.

Maccready’s eyes shot open and he broke from my grasp.

“The fuck d’you say, ass-hat!?”

Maccready raised his foot and kicked the guy square in the face, full force.

I heard the sickening crunch of bone and couldn’t help but flinch.

_Jesus._

Mac stormed out the door to the sound of animalistic wailing, and as ashamed as I am to admit it, I was weirdly aroused.

I cleared my throat and looked around at the shocked faces of the witnesses.

 _Might have to leave it a while before coming back here,_ I mentally noted.

I sighed, unhooked my pistol and stared down the barrel at the bastard that laid a hand on my partner-in-crime.

“Hey, shut up for a second,” I commanded.

Smart man, he stopped his bawling after a few short moments and looked up at me through his bloodied hands.

“That looks like it hurts. Live or die?”

The man huffed questioningly, and I repeated my question.

“Would you like to keep living, or should I put you out of your misery?”

A few beats passed, and he made his decision promptly.

“...L-Live,” he grunted.

Christ, his voice was deep.

He looked like Strong’s human twin-- only with less redeemable qualities.

I nodded as I stared down the barrel.

“Don’t ever come near us again.  
I don’t know what the fuck your problem was, but attacking an unarmed man is low.  
Attacking one of my friends is suicide.  
You make even a cameo appearance in our business from here on out and, believe me, you’ll know all about it.”

The man gave a resigned grumble and a stiff nod, and I lowered my gun and headed through the bar’s double doors after Maccready.


	3. Chapter 3

We drifted through the nighttime streets unhindered, my hand in Maccready’s as he pulled me along in loaded silence.

I squeezed his hand for reassurance, not wanting to break this weird silence until we were behind closed doors, and he squeezed back comfortingly in contrast with his tense exterior.

We came into the harsh security lights, and we passed the turrets and the guards into the clearing before the gates.

The night-guard manning the gates gave Mac a few shocked looks, but obviously didn’t want to risk asking.

I nodded appreciatively as he signalled his co-worker to pull the lever.

We entered the shockingly bright stadium city, and weren’t surprised to see only Percy and a few mangy scavvers still awake and conducting business at this ungodly hour.

Maccready fished out his key from one of his many hidden pockets, dropping my hand in the process.

He gruffly unlocked and pushed open the door to our private home.

He sighed as he held it open for me, and I waited until it was locked and shut behind us before speaking.

“Take a seat, Mac, I’ll clean you up,” I ordered gently, breaking the spell of silence.

He kicked his (slightly bloodied) boots off by the door and obliged, falling heavily on the oversized couch and throwing his hat out of sight.

I rolled out the trolley with all our med supplies and grabbed an old rag with a bottle of vodka from the drinks cabinet.

Mac was fiddling with the radio when I came back, and he left the dial at Galaxy News Radio.

The low twang of the blues made for good background noise as I fished out some Med-X and Stimpaks, and wet the rag with alcohol.

“Do you need anything for the pain?” I asked softly as I began to dab at the open wounds on his cheeks and nose.

“No,” he hissed.

 _Yeah right, Mac,_ I thought to myself as I uncapped a Med-X and injected it into his arm.

“Ah! Don’t waste it!”

“Don’t worry about it, honey.”

“I said I didn’t need it.”

“Shut up and let me look after you, idiot,” I scolded, gently kissing his cheek after scrubbing it.

Maccready huffed in defeat, a hint of a blush spreading on his features.

_Too cute._

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed as I wiped the dried blood from around his nose and chin.

He caught my eyes, the blue in sharp contrast to the dark red and purple and my heart skipped a beat.

He seemed to notice and he raised his eyebrows inquisitively, making me more flustered.

_I must be pretty fucked up to find this so attractive. He’s probably in a lot of pain._

I cleared my throat, grabbing a bandage from the pack and gently kissing the scratch on his right cheekbone before covering it up.

He smiled and kissed my palm and I felt my face turn redder by the second.

_How am I so bad at this when I’m a twenty-six year old woman? I face horrifying mutants and ghouls everyday but when it’s stuff like this my heart can’t handle it..._

_Nate was never the affectionate type, and he was the only person I had ever been with, or even kissed before all of this._

_Mac’s so different though._

“Something the matter?”

He looked up at me and I snapped out of my self-reflection.

“Ah, no, I’m fine,” I shook my head, then smiled at his concern.

_Two sides of the same coin, huh?_

I shifted in my seat before reaching behind me and rather skillfully blindsiding him with the Stimpak I had been concealing.

“Ah, fu--dammit!! Again!?”

I leaned in close to kiss his nose quickly.

“Just in case. I can afford plenty, so stop bitching, Mac,” I teased.

He rubbed his arm and pouted exaggeratedly at me, but I could tell he was grateful; even if he’d never admit it.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Maccready spoke up again.

“I don’t suppose you want to know what that whole fiasco back there was, do you?” he inquired, pulling me into his lap.

“I left you alone for all of five minutes and you destroyed my favourite hangout,” I exclaimed sardonically.

“Hah, I didn’t start the brawl, angel. That was all the other guy.”

His laughter was somewhat tinged with sadness.

I sighed and grabbed his hands from around my waist, inspecting them.

“You’ve got lots of little nicks and scratches, lemme wrap these up. Keep explaining.”

I grabbed a roll of bandage wrap from the medical trolley and began wrapping his fists.

Maccready sighed heavily.

“He recognised me from The Gunners.   
Apparently his shipments of guns were intercepted and his guards killed.   
I’d sure love to be able to say he had it coming; that he was selling faulty goods or whatever, but he was just some merchant who recognised me as the guy who lost him hundreds of caps and some hired muscle.”

Mac looked distraught; he was trying to consider the morality of his actions with The Gunners. 

If there’s one thing I’ve learned since I woke up, it’s to forget about examining your actions too much. 

What’s done is done-- you can only move forward and hope to do right by yourself and the people you love.

I finished wrapping his hands up quietly, and I gently kissed his knuckles as he stared off into the distance.

“He wanted me to apologise for what I did.”

“Did you?”

“Of course I did,” he frowned bitterly.

“Didn’t stop him from beating the he...” 

He growled in frustration.

“Heck out of me,” he finished begrudgingly.

Mac was cute when he was angry.

His anti-swears were one of the many things that made me fall for him so fast.

“I know you regret ever being there, Mac.   
Surely he could tell.”

“I thought so at first too.   
I had apologised and was just about to buy him a drink when he slugged me.   
He just wanted someone to take it out on, I guess.”

He sighed deeply and put his hand over his eyes. 

God, I hate being associated with those assho--urgh...”

He dropped his head back in annoyance.

“Those fucking assholes!!” I finished for him.

“Ugh, that was it, that was exactly what I needed to say!!” he howled in relief, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him as he hugged me close to him.

It was nice to just be close to him.

I felt _safe_ , for Christ’s sake.

We spent a few precious moments like that, me buried in his warm shoulder, his smile and his light stubble pressed against my neck. 

He smelled like fire and fallen leaves; guns and danger with a hint of sugar bombs.

Underneath everything was the smell of Maccready though; of his sweat and his pheromones.

His blood.

I didn’t want to get carried away because his lips and his bruises were probably still sensitive from the fight.

I didn’t want to, but I also kind of did want to for that very reason.

_Ah god, I’m fucked up._

I was having trouble breathing the more I thought about it; about touching him where it hurt and causing him to flinch.

“Geez,” I muttered involuntarily into his collar, causing him to inhale deeply and pull back.

My face must have been pretty red by now, and he chuckled at my reaction when he rubbed his nose against mine.

“Your hair is so fluffy,” I confided reverently after regaining the ability to speak.

I automatically began to ruffle my fingers through it, laughing when I pushed it back then flattened it down into his frowning, blushing face.

“Shut up,” he muttered halfheartedly, and I goddamn swooned.

I kissed his swollen lips then-- gently at first-- but when he kissed back more forcefully I figured I might as well give in a little.

I could taste the coppery remnants of blood, and it kind of drove me wild.

 _Since when am I freakin’ Bela Lugosi?_ I wondered vaguely to myself.

Mac was making it difficult for me to form more coherent thoughts, to be honest.

I huffed into his mouth at the thought, and he pulled back groggily to look at me.

“What’s so funny?”

His pupils were expanding and his cheeks were flushed, but he looked like he was trying to focus.

“Stop being so cute,” I deadpanned.

“I can’t,” he shot back.

“You’ll just have to deal with it,” he huffed as he kissed my neck.

It tickled, and his arms tightened around me when I tried to muffle my laughter.

Mac was fun to be with at this time of night.

I kissed his sore cheekbone while discreetly pushing his coat off his shoulders.

I was leaning in to kiss him properly when his hand came up to my mouth.

My stomach dropped and I looked at him questioningly.

_Had I done something wrong?_

_Was he more hurt than I’d thought?_

“Hold up a minute,” he began, coaxing me off his lap as he stood up.

I swallowed nervously as he turned off the radio and the floor lamp.

He cleared his throat nonchalantly as he walked towards the bed, shrugged off his coat and turned on the colored fairy lights.

“Mac, what’re you--” 

He flopped down on the bed emphatically, head leaned against his hand.

“Continue,” he decreed smugly.

I snorted loudly and he grinned as I complied quickly.

“You little shit,” I murmured before silencing him with a combination of enthusiastic kisses and merciless tickling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't do it guys, I can't write actual rumpy pumpy.  
> what if my mom finds this someday!?  
> (I assure you guys, I am more than old enough to write about rumpy pumpy)  
> ahem, anyways, you can use your imagination!!  
> peace out.

I woke up to find that Mac was passed out on top of me and I couldn’t breathe properly.

“Jesus,” I chuckled as I rolled him off of me and blushed remembering what had happened last night.

I smiled fiendishly to myself, ducked back under the sheets and tangled my legs with his.

Having him be vulnerable like this made all the fighting worth it.

After a while, I sat up to look at his sleeping face.

His face was serene, but his hair made me laugh.

_What a mess._

The bruising had gone down an awful lot-- that was probably thanks to the Stimpak.

I sighed happily as I flopped back down, and when I closed my eyes I felt Maccready shift beside me.

“Good morning,” he rumbled, his voice thick with sleep as he nearly squeezed the life out of me.

“Oof,” I agreed,

“Morning.”

He kissed me gently in contrast to the hug, and I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

“I love you,” I uttered automatically.

Mac grinned and stuck his tongue out.

“I know.”

I must’ve looked pretty threatening in my freshly-awoken form, because he turned serious pretty quickly.

“Ahem, I mean, I love you too.”

I grinned despite myself, and Maccready stood up and walked toward the kitchen.

“But I’m sure you knew that already,” he winked flirtatiously over his shoulder.

I chortled as I jumped out of bed and followed him.

“Hey Mac, you want a sneak peek at that one-of-a-kind Grognak special edition comic?”


End file.
